


Howl

by Sansastarklives



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:26:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansastarklives/pseuds/Sansastarklives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one shot of Petyr and Sansa. Inspired by the song Howl by Florence and the Machine, which is prefect for these two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Howl

Petyr pushed Sansa up on to the desk. He lips kissed her neck roughly, moving to her shoulders, to her breasts, to her stomach, back up to her collarbone and then once again to her lips. He wanted to kiss every part of her that he could. He wanted to feel her soft skin against his thin lips forever. He pulled her closer to him. She wrapped her legs around his back and drove her hips forward, light moans escaping her mouth as she did so.  
Petyr rested his head on her shoulder, nipping at her skin in rhythm with his thrusts. He murmured sweet sounds that had no meaning. His hands found her hips and he dug into them, so hard that Sansa was sure that brown and purple would spread there in the morrow.   
Sansa dug her fingernails into Petyr’s back and dragged them from shoulder to shoulder. Warm, wet liquid poured out finding its way beneath her nails. Petyr’s sharp intake of breath told her how shocked he was by her actions, but he didn’t stop. Sansa lifted her hands up above Petyr’s head to examine them. Her pale white skin was stained with dark red patterns decorating it. She moved her hand in the fire’s light, watching the liquid shine from different angles.  
Her hands met at his spine and she dragged them outwards. No matter how together they were in those moments, it was never enough. She craved more, it was as though she were never close enough. It was like she was trying to claw her way in. He moaned deeply as her fingers raked across him. It was like a song in her ear, and she loved to hear him sing.  
Petyr’s thrusts became slower, and less powerful. After a moment he stiffens and slumps on top of her. She moves her blood soaked hands onto his chest and gently pushes his backwards, until he falls flatly onto the bed. She sits on him, relishing his moan as she does so. She moves her hips in slow circles, stained hands firmly on his chest. Her lips met his scarred chest and she drags her teeth across his. She could feel his beating heart beneath her pale mouth as she sunk her teeth a little deeper. Her tongue lightly traced the scar which tattooed his chest.   
When she sat back up, Petyr’s lips met hers. She melted into them. He broke away and trailed kisses along her neck. He nipped at her shoulder, marking it with a perfect bite mark. With one last slow circle of her hips, they were done.   
Sansa dropped beside Petyr, lying in his slim arms. He kissed the crown of her head and held her tighter and tighter into his chest. They seemed to lie there forever: far too long. Yet when Petyr made to move, it was far too soon. He bid goodnight to his sweet Sansa when she returned to her own chambers.

***

Before she went to sleep, Sansa filled her basin with cool water. She scrubbed her fingers until all of the blood was gone and her hands were plain and boring, just like always. Sansa didn’t want to wash away the blood. She wanted to keep it there. The blood assured her that it was real. That everything that happened was real. Petyr’s words rang through her head “Always keep your hands clean.” So she did.

**Author's Note:**

> A little different from my usual stuff. Pure smut. I'm sorry, not sorry.


End file.
